What I’ve
learned….
About the
methodologies of archival research and oral history:
Over
the last 3 months I’ve learned that archival research and oral histories are an
art, not a science. I’ve also learned just how important archival research and
oral histories are imperative to understanding actions of the past and how we
can interpret them for the future. Archival research and oral history, as
mentioned in “Embracing the Power of Archives”, illustrates how archivists are
in the “memory business” and “play a part in shaping public memory” (page 3).
“Doing Oral History” defines public memory as involving “symbols and stories
that help a community define and explain present conditions according to how it
remembers (or wants to remember) the past” (page 36). I would also add that it
is similar for individuals; they remember the past how they remember the past; it
may not necessarily be the exact version of events, but it is necessary to take
their views into account because they may paint the picture of an opinion
forgotten. As Canadian archivist Arthur Doughty said in 1924, “Of all national
assets, archives are the most precious. They are the gift of one generation to
another and the extent of our care of them marks the extent of our
civilization” (4). Understanding that archivists need to get these documents
and histories to the public is of utmost importance; they don’t do anything
sitting in boxes inside libraries.
Understanding
that becoming an oral historian means you don’t necessarily have to have a
specialty in history was one interesting piece of information I gained
throughout this process. For example, I was able to take what I learned,
introduce it to my boyfriend’s mother, and help her conduct an oral history of
her mother and father in Polish. That’s not to say that anyone can do an oral
history. As “Doing Oral History” mentions, there are right and wrong ways to
conduct an oral history, as well as principles, guidelines, and standards about
the process itself (25). For example, oral historians need to be aware that
people remember what they think is important and will relay that information to
the interviewer instead of what the interviewer may think is relevant. By the
time they get to what is relevant, the interviewer may run out of time and have
to schedule another appointment. Understanding that patience is definitely a
virtue when it comes to the art of doing oral history may be difficult, but it
will allow you to accomplish a lot more and set manageable timelines to finish
projects.
About
working in “real world” situations:
Expect
the unexpected. That’s definitely a phrase I will continue to remind myself
with as I move forward with oral histories in the future. My first initial
experiences began even before the oral histories we conducted in class. I was
12 years old and I was interviewing my grandfather about his early life and his
experiences during World War II. Although I didn’t know it at the time, I was
conducting an oral history. Fast forward 9 years to my next oral history
project which was part of my thesis. I had barely started this course, and I
had no idea what to expect. I ended up botching the interview in the sense that
I wasn’t comfortable with letting the questions flow as her responses came. I
wasn’t sure how to respond when she went off on tangents, nor did I feel like I
had the control to get the interview back on track.
A
few months later when we interviewed Emily Martinez for the Chicana Por Mi Raza
project, I felt like I had a better understanding of how to maintain composure
and find answers that I needed. Although I was not conducting the interview,
and Maria said we needed to go back to find out more, I did feel like I got a
better grasp of how to connect with the subject of the oral history before we
actually dove into the interview itself. I also learned that sometimes it is
better to talk in the interviewee’s native language because they are more
likely to give you a breadth of information that you may not have otherwise
gained from speaking in their second language. As Maria discussed with
Elizabeth and I, next time we interview Emily, we will interview her in
Spanish, because we feel she will be more likely to open up and talk about her
experiences, as well as recall more about the encounters she was engaged in. It
is easier to recall something and speak about it in ones native tongue, because
it may be reconstructed as the interviewee searches for words to describe it in
their second language.
About
Chicana feminism and the women in the movement:
First,
I want to talk about feminism in general. Even trying to understand what
feminism is was in itself a difficulty. I thought I knew what feminism was
before I took this class. I had this idea that it was about women’s rights and
independence; to be honest I called myself a feminist. Now, I’m not so sure
that I identify with the nominal definition of feminism, because, especially
after taking this class, I feel it sidelines a lot of major issues and
problems. For example, I’d never heard of AnnaNieto Gomez, Maylei Blackwell, or
Kimberly Springer until I took this course. I didn’t even know what Chicana
feminism was or that it even existed until I met Maria Cotera and conversed
with her via email. I thought I was educated, but I claim ignorance in this
case because 1) I took the idea of feminism at face value and 2) because
feminism itself doesn’t seem to recognize its own biases.
Moving
into the definition of Chicana feminism, to be quite honest, for me, is still a
bit undefined. I say this because after interviewing and listening to my peers’
responses to their own interview experiences, I can’t clearly say what defines
Chicana feminism. If you met Emily Martinez, whose barely 5 feet and a force of
nature, you might think she fits the idea of a Chicana feminist. But if you ask
her, she DOES NOT define herself as Chicana, nor does she want to be associated
with the movement. Instead, she says she is Mexican American, and she acts how
she acts and does what she does because it is the right thing to do. This
amazingly driven, hardworking woman refuses to associate herself with the term
feminism. But if you took the definitions of Chicana feminism, one might say
she is a Chicana feminist, despite the fact that she does not associate with
the term herself.
Another
example is from my classmates’ interview with Jane Garcia. She defines herself
as a Chicana, but does not identify herself as a feminist, AND she is a
self-proclaimed Republican. She fits the bill for being a liberal, chicana
feminist, yet she doesn’t identify with two of the three parts.
After
these two experiences, I began to think more and more about the ideas of
labeling and what it can mean for a movement, especially for one like the
feminist movement, who claim to represent the interests of all women in the
fight for equality. However, as I’ve learned over the course of this class,
that is definitely not the case. The divisions of feminism (i.e. Chicana
feminism, Black feminism, Separatist feminism, Lesbian feminism, Multiracial
feminism, Third World feminism, etc.) illustrate how the “original” feminist
movement neglected to encompass these women, and in turn segmented itself. I
find that moving forward, trying to encourage a unity amongst these groups will
make the movement as a whole stronger. There are similar lines throughout all
of the movements, but it is the stark differences that need to be acknowledge,
accepted, and drawn into the sphere of feminist politics.
About
myself:
Especially after the last 3 months, I want to continue
this growing process of understanding feminism on a level beyond its origins. I
want to help redefine the nominal definition of feminism into something that
can encompass all women, of all ethnicities, sexualities, religions, and
identities. That redefinition starts with simple conversations with other women
and men. Most people hear the term feminism and either shy away from it, or
embrace the definition that sidelines many women whom it claims to represent.
It’s about starting at the ground level and allowing the discourse to spread.
Beyond that change, I’ve also learned a lot about myself.
I don’t know if I consider myself a feminist like I used to. Part of the reason
is that I’ve found the label doesn’t fit my belief system as I thought it once
did. I’m not sure I can ever label myself other than a believer in equal
opportunity and equality amongst sexes and races.
That being said, I also came to an understanding about
myself in regards to my ethnicity, my race and my background. I never saw
myself as white. I know that seems weird, but I didn’t identify with color.
Instead, I focused on my ethnicity and my religion. I’m predominantly Polish
and I’m a practicing Catholic (another label that sometimes raises eyebrows).
I’ve received flack more for the latter, but my family has received criticism
for the former. The association of Poles being stupid was something I learned
from my grandparents; their parents dealt with never-ending criticism and other
problems while working the factories during the early 1900s because of their
ethnicity. As a Catholic I immediately get pigeonholed because of some of the
predominant beliefs that people who aren’t Catholic know the religion for.
Those assumptions are based on labels, and labels have a powerful hold on
society. So when a friend of mine first labeled me as a “white girl”, I was
taken aback. There was a subtle undertone that was almost accusatory in that
statement. Whether she meant to do that or not, I began to feel self-conscious.
When I initially entered this class, those insecurities hit me full force.
Ironically, Latina Oral History taught me to embrace who I
am, skin color and all. I know longer feel guilty about the color of my skin;
I’ve embraced it, with the understanding that being completely open and honest
about my belief systems will remove that label from my forehead once people get
to know me. When I met Emily Martinez, I was fearful that she might
subconsciously reject me because my skin color was that of the people who made
her life and her family’s indescribably difficult. But I never felt that vibe
from her. As we sat and talked about her struggles, and the struggles my
great-grandparents and grandfather went through, we bonded over the similarities
in our belief systems, our hopes for the future in regards to equal opportunity
and equality, and problems within society that continue to keep that from
happening.
I’m very excited about the opportunity to continue this
work next term as part of a field study course. I think that part of the way
forgotten histories come alive involves bringing people in who may not necessarily
be familiar, but have a passion for learning. In some ways I equivocate it to
finding hidden treasure. It’s the excitement of bringing knowledge to the
forefront of conversation and discussion that will continue oral history, and
hopefully bring it from out of the sheltered realm of academia. Digitizing the
material is so important, especially as we continue to grow as a society
dependent on technology. Archives and histories will stay alive forever in the
digital space, but this depends on getting more and more people involved with
projects such as Chicana Por Mi Raza. If there weren’t people willing to do
this work, these stories would lay forgotten, and I can guarantee that there
are still thousands of stories out there waiting to be discovered that will
have a major impact on how we continue to see the past, and shape our future.
No comments:
Post a Comment